The Sit Down
Lyrics
My Continental on vogues
Su-i-cide doors
Men in black
Never been afraid, so I'm never strapped
I need a gun I'll take yours
And I don't hate whores
I just hate yours
Why ya'll make war
You know you want peace
Wars on the street
Tattooed with the mark of the beast
I felt that
Then I fell back
"Keep it to yourself"
"Baby, you shouldn't tell that"
Too much ego
Too much info
FBI always trying to build a RICO
So I say zero
Plus I'm legal
Park the Continental
Got the Buick Regal
No more heroes
Too many martyrs
Too many children growing up without fathers
We need dollars
But even more
We need scholars
Teach him how to tie a tie
Lay down the collar
If we choose to not
The future's all shot
First they on the block
Then they in the penitentiary
8x10 cell and cot
That's misery
You gone be the future
You should understand the history
Searching through the scriptures
Please reveal what it means to me
I can see the enemy
All up in the industry
Same ones delivered me
Same ones killing me
Same ones healing me
The same ones spit on me
The same ones endorsed me
The same people put a chip in me
I don't play games
If you drunk off of Henessey
Never check me
Check your girl cause she hit on me
You can feel the fire, and desire, and frequency
Don't hate me
Hate the game that I'm sweating, and I'm breathing, and I'm bleeding
Cradle to grave
Great, great, great granny was a slave of a slave
Telling me forget
You got rich while we picked a pack
Please don't let me catch you slipping with a full pack
Cause I ain't had lunch, nor dinner, not breakfast yet
No alcohol, no sex, no cigarettes
You can tell by the ribs if he properly fed
Don't go skipping in the jungle you could lose your head
I'm a say it one more time so it's clear
If you ain't got no business then you shouldn't be here
That's word on my block
Home of the killer cops
Life on the backstreets
The urban backdrop
Where rides get swapped
Too much pride get ya shot
Metrics for success
If you survive it or not
Ahh...
I think I did
Yeah I did it
People want the fame
But they're really just gimmicks
So I get it how I live it
Spit it how I feel it
You don't gotta like it
But ya gotta deal with it
My Continental on vogues
Su-i-cide doors
Men in black
Never been afraid, so I'm never strapped
I need a gun I'll take yours
And I don't hate whores
I just hate yours
Why ya'll make war
You know you want peace
Wars on the street
Tattooed with the mark of the beast
I felt that
Then I fell back
"Keep it to yourself"
"Baby, you shouldn't tell that"
Too much ego
Too much info
FBI always trying to build a RICO
So I say zero
Plus I'm legal
Park the Continental
Got the Buick Regal
No more heroes
Too many martyrs
Too many children growing up without fathers
We need dollars
But even more
We need scholars
Teach him how to tie a tie
Lay down the collar
If we choose to not
The future's all shot
First they on the block
Then they in the penitentiary
8x10 cell and cot
That's misery
You gone be the future
You should understand the history
Searching through the scriptures
Please reveal what it means to me
I can see the enemy
All up in the industry
Same ones delivered me
Same ones killing me
Same ones healing me
The same ones spit on me
The same ones endorsed me
The same people put a chip in me
I don't play games
If you drunk off of Henessey
Never check me
Check your girl cause she hit on me
You can feel the fire, and desire, and frequency
Don't hate me
Hate the game that I'm sweating, and I'm breathing, and I'm bleeding
Cradle to grave
Great, great, great granny was a slave of a slave
Telling me forget
You got rich while we picked a pack
Please don't let me catch you slipping with a full pack
Cause I ain't had lunch, nor dinner, not breakfast yet
No alcohol, no sex, no cigarettes
You can tell by the ribs if he properly fed
Don't go skipping in the jungle you could lose your head
I'm a say it one more time so it's clear
If you ain't got no business then you shouldn't be here
That's word on my block
Home of the killer cops
Life on the backstreets
The urban backdrop
Where rides get swapped
Too much pride get ya shot
Metrics for success
If you survive it or not
Ahh...
I think I did
Yeah I did it
People want the fame
But they're really just gimmicks
So I get it how I live it
Spit it how I feel it
You don't gotta like it
But ya gotta deal with it
Writer(s): James Macon III
Copyright(s): Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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